***
“On behalf of the Kla Guur clan,” Maelnar was saying, “we cannot thank the likes of ye enough. The tunnels are safe once more.”
“I’m glad we could help,” Steve said, shaking the proffered forearm. “This has truly been an experience that I won’t ever forget.” Remembering Sarah’s last comments to their dragon friend, Steve smiled. “We count ourselves lucky to call the Kla Guur clan friends.”
“Friends, hell,” Maelnar muttered, pulling Steve into a hug. “Ye are family now. Do not ever forget that, lad.”
The four soldiers approached, greeting each member of the Council in turn.
“We thank our human brothers for their assistance,” Maelnar began, much more formally. “Ye have affirmed the wisdom of our ancestors in creating the pact with the humans. We are proud to honor that allegiance whenever the need arises.” The dwarf glanced across the room, where a contingent of dwarves, led by Kharus, had just entered. Smiling, he turned back to the humans. “As a token of our appreciation, our esteemed master Kharus has commissioned special armor for everyone, including yer fallen comrade. Master Kharus?”
Steve’s former boss turned to his group of assistants and began unwrapping packages. Assembling the first suit of armor, he called the captain over. With skilled movements, they had Rhenyon outfitted in the finest set of armor that he had ever seen. Repeating the process with the other three soldiers, Kharus then called Steve over, outfitting him with the same suit as the one the soldiers were wearing. While Steve admired the latest addition to his wardrobe, Kharus turned to Sarah, smiling warmly.
“Ye are next, lass.”
Not sure what to expect, and not really wanting (or needing) protective clothing, Sarah approached. However, the garments Kharus held out to her had her staring open-mouthed. The fabric the dwarf craftsman presented to her didn’t even come close to resembling the suits of armor the others were wearing. What she was looking at was a much thinner, much stronger variant of the dwarves’ special metal, bryl, which had been deftly woven into the fabric of the light purple gown being presented to her.
This was armor? Sarah ran her fingers through the material, rubbing them together. The fabric felt like silk! This was even finer than the armor given to her by Quisen however long ago that was. This gown could effortlessly be worn to the most formal of occasions, while easily being worn out to dinner at their favorite restaurant. This had to be the finest dress that she had ever been given. Then she thought back to the closet full of gowns back at the castle. Her wardrobe here certainly outshone the one from back home, that’s for sure.
One of Maelnar’s daughters approached, gently tugging her arm, indicating she was to follow.
“Guess I’m changing,” Sarah told her husband, as she was herded out of the room. “Be right back!”
While the soldiers all admired their new armor, master Kharus smiled mischievously. He had yet to present his finest gifts to their intended recipients. Pulling out his final wrapped bundle, he took his time removing the fabric coverings, making a show of exposing as little of the concealed item as possible until he was ready. The chamber suddenly hushed as all eyes turned to look at the newcomer. Steve sucked in his breath.
Sarah had reentered the room, wearing her new “armor”, although it appeared to everyone else that she was now decked out in her finest apparel, meshing nicely with the finely attired dwarves. The gown was a perfect fit, extending all the way down so that it gently brushed the floor. There was the slightest rustling of fabric as Sarah joined her husband at the front of the procession, delighting the dwarves with an elegant curtsy. In unison, the Council of dwarves bowed in return.
“You look beautiful! Just like a princess!”
Sarah beamed at her husband. “Thank you. I’m not comfortable being the center of attention like this.”
“Better get used to it when you look like that.”
Doing her best not to blush, Sarah smiled.
Still smiling at Sarah, Maelnar turned to Kharus. “Are ye ready?”
“Aye.”
Quizzically, Steve and Sarah returned their attention to the blacksmith, who was busy unwrapping the last package. Finally removing enough coverings to pull a smaller bundle free, every human present gasped as the final piece of fabric was removed, revealing a magnificent two-handed broadsword. But what caught everyone’s attention was the blade itself. It was blue! Sidling a bit closer, Steve gazed admiringly at the magnificent masterpiece. The sword measured close to four feet in length, from pommel to sword tip, with ancient dwarven runes etched into the colored blade on both sides. The grip was wrapped tightly in black leather, with a griffin on each end of the golden guard. Brilliant sapphires were set into the hilt in various places. Steve whistled in admiration.
Holding the sword up high so that everyone could admire the unique weapon, Kharus presented it to the human captain.
“In honor of yer bravery and courage, brother, we are honored to present ye with this token of our appreciation.” The dwarf held the hilt out to the captain, who stood there in shock. Seeing no move to take his gift, Kharus placed the sword into his hands. While Kharus turned back to retrieve the second bundle, Rhenyon continued to stare in awe at the exquisite work of art now in his possession.
“Breslin, step forth.”
Surprised, the dwarf moved next to Rhenyon. Casting a quick, admiring glance down at the sword his friend was holding, the dwarf turned to see what the skilled blacksmith was unwrapping next. His eyes widened as the cloth on the double-bladed ax fell away. As with the sword, the first thing Breslin noted was the color. The blades were a striking red, also with the ancient runes etched into both sides. The same griffin was carved into both sides of the ax head, with a large ruby set into each side of the ax. Mouth open in shock, Breslin took the weapon Kharus presented him.
Sliding the coverings off the final weapon, Kharus presented Steve a twin to Rhenyon’s sword, only this time the blade was forest green, with emeralds adorning the hilt instead of sapphires. Steve stared at his sword, admiring the detail of the carved griffins and the ancient symbols on the blade.
“Behold the Mythra triad, crafted solely for the three of ye. Sir Rhenyon, ye be holding Mythron, of the blue blade. Breslin, ye have Mythryd, with its double red blades. Finally, sir Steve, ye be holding Mythrin, of the green blade.” Smiling profusely, Kharus surveyed the recipients of his gifts. “Each blade will forever hold its edge,” the dwarf explained, “while simultaneously being able to slice through practically any material. Use these weapons well.”
The two humans were unable to speak, still staring incredulously at their gifts from the dwarves. Breslin, testing the sharpness of his ax blades for the fourth time, bowed in appreciation to master Kharus, who bowed in return.
“I will treasure this always. I thank ye.”
“That goes for me, too,” Rhenyon finally managed to say.
“Same goes,” Steve murmured.
The Prophecy Page 51
